Consequences
by IndelibleTraces
Summary: Robert tells Cora a story from his past.


_A/N: I've read fanfiction for years, but this is my first attempt at it. I'd love to hear what you think._

As the bedroom door opened, Cora looked up from her book to see Robert enter with a pained expression on his face.

"Was it that bad?" she asked sympathetically.

"I don't believe having your daughter tell you that she hates you could ever be described as a 'good' thing," Robert responded despondently, as he settled into bed.

"Oh my darling, I'm so sorry. You know she doesn't mean it; all children say things they don't mean when they've been punished."

Robert sighed, and Cora reached over to pat his hand sympathetically. "I'm afraid you may have to get use to that dear, for I have a feeling that will not be Mary's last spanking."

Robert winced. "Don't use that word; it sounds so crass and hurtful."

Cora smirked. "Well what would _you_ call it? It's the word we used when I was a child." Robert stared at her. "You were spanked?" he asked with a smile and an emphasis on the word "spanked."

"Yes…well…_you_ were never spanked when you got in trouble?" Cora asked quickly in an attempt to distract Robert from her reddening cheeks.

"I think 'spanked' is too mild a term for what I received," he answered with a sheepish grin.

They both fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts of the other as a child. Robert, in particular, was enjoying picturing Cora as a naughty little girl, when the "girl" in question interrupted his daydream.

"Darling…"

"Hmmm," he responded in a distracted manner.

Cora slid over to lay her head on his chest. "Will you tell me about some of the trouble you got into as a child?" she asked hesitantly, distractedly playing with the buttons on Robert's pajama top. Trying his best to ignore her ministrations, Robert was silent for a few minutes. Finally he replied, "Only if you reciprocate my dear."

Cora sat up in shock, taking in the cheshire grin on her husband's face. "It's only fair, after all," he stated.

Cora took a moment to consider his proposal. "Oh, all right," she said, as she settled back against his chest. "But you go first."

Robert quickly suppressed his triumphant grin as he tried to decide which of his childish follies he ought to share. He settled on the first incident that came to mind as he was eager to get to Cora's story.

* * *

It wasn't fair, it simply wasn't fair, Robert Crawley fumed. He had begged and pleaded, but nothing it seemed would change his father's mind. "If James is allowed to go, I don't see why I can't go too," Robert stated, trying a different approach to his argument.

"Robert, you know as well as I do that James is several years older than you. I have told you repeatedly that when I feel you are old enough, and mature enough," he added with emphasis, "you shall be allowed to join the hunt. As it is, you are not quite ten, and that time has not yet come."

Robert had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something he might regret; it seemed nothing he might say would sway his father. He had thought all the extra work he had been putting in with his horse would pay off and prove to his papa that he was ready. He'd even gotten over his irrational fear of jumping the stream, thanks to James' incessant teasing.

Lost in his own thoughts, Robert hadn't realized that his father was waiting for him to respond. "Have I made myself clear?" he asked.

"Quite," Robert responded, allowing his irritation with the situation to seep through.

"That will be quite enough cheek, young man," his father snapped quickly in a no-nonsense tone. "Yes sir," Robert meekly responded, realizing he had gone too far.

"Now, we'll have no more on the subject. I believe you should think on our conversation in your room until dinner. I'll have Carson check in on you."

Realizing he'd been dismissed, Robert headed for the door. _I don't need a footman for a nanny; I'm not a baby_, he thought bitterly. "What was that?" his father asked sharply. Rather too late, Robert realized he had mumbled his last thought. He could feel his papa's eyes boring a hole into the back of his head. "Nothing, sir," he answered timidly, not daring to turn around.

"I thought as much," came his father's clipped reply. When he added nothing further, Robert quickly headed toward the door.

"Oh, and Robert…" his father's words stopped him just before he could make his escape out the door. "You may not be a _baby_, but you are not too old for me to warm your britches. See that you remember that."

Robert's face turned crimson with embarrassment as he hastily left the room.

* * *

Cora's sudden coughing fit abruptly halted Robert's narrative. "Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

"Yes," she managed to answer between coughs. His concern made her feel slightly guilty, as her coughing had been the result of her trying to suppress her laughter. Try as she might though, a few giggles escaped.

"I'm glad you find my scolding so amusing. I can assure you it was not," he huffed, with mock indignation. Cora glanced up, and observed his pouting face. "Oh my poor darling," she said sweetly as she caressed his cheek. "I'm sure it was a rather unpleasant experience, and I sympathize with you completely." She leaned forward to press a consoling kiss against his lips. Robert realized she was indulging him, but he wasn't about to complain.

As she ended the kiss, she grinned at him, unable to contain her mirth. "But the images I pictured of you as a shame faced little boy and stern old Carson as a nanny were just too priceless for words. Will you forgive me?"

Robert could only maintain his mock pout for so long; eventually a grin slipped through. "I suppose I could be persuaded to forgive you," he teased, as he leaned in for a longer, deeper kiss. When he attempted to roll Cora onto her back, she, much to his disappointment, abruptly pulled away. "You're not getting out of your story that easily dear." His disappointed look made her grin. "No matter how pleasant _this_ is," she cooed, as she kissed him for emphasis.

She smirked at him as he leaned back against his pillow with a sigh. "Oh, all right," he said resignedly. "But I'll have no more laughter out of you," he added as he guided her head back against his chest.

"I promise," Cora replied.

Just before Robert resumed, she added, "I'll do my best not to." Robert just smirked.

* * *

The estate was shrouded in fog as the day of the hunt finally arrived. The weather gave an ethereal quality to the proceeding. Gentlemen milled about on their horses, speaking in hushed tones so as not to startle the hounds. Whips walked calmly through the pack of dogs, keeping them in line. Footmen weaved in and out delivering refreshments. Everyone was waiting for the huntsman to blow the horn signaling the start of the hunt. The anticipation in the air was almost electric.

Standing by the front door, Robert couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement, even though he'd witnessed the start of the hunt many times before. His excitement, however, was tempered by his disappointment; he thought the weather perfectly suited his mood.

As his cousin James made his way over to him, Robert attempted to reign in his jealousy.

"Such a shame you can not join us, old man," James sneered. Robert wished he could wipe the pompous grin off his cousin's face.

"Yes well, what with the fog and all, I didn't feel the hunting would be that successful so I decided not to go," Robert replied quickly, trying to appear as if the hunt was of little consequence to him. If James' knowing smirk was any indication, he was not very successful. He was saved from further comment by the arrival of more riders, whom James went to greet. Robert could not hide his scowl when he saw who was among them – Lady Agatha.

Lady Agatha Chatwick was the daughter of one of his father's oldest friends. She was not yet twenty, but already she possessed an aristocratic air of condescension. She always referred to him as "little Robbie" and patted him on the head as if he were a puppy. It was especially unfair that _she_ was getting to go on the hunt while he was not.

"Don't scowl, Robert."

His father's admonishment startled him from his envious thoughts. Robert looked up to see his father smiling at him sympathetically. "I know you wish to join us, and I certainly look forward to when you do, but I'm afraid you're not quite ready yet," his father said as he placed a comforting hand on Robert's shoulder.

"I may not be ready to hunt, but could I not at least follow behind on my horse. I promise to stay out of the way, and…"

"Robert…"

"…I'd not distract the riders or ask any questions. You'll not even know I'm there. I…"

"Robert. That's enough," his father interjected, bluntly bringing Robert's rushed plea to an end. "Show me how mature you are by accepting my decision. You will remain at the house. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Robert responded dejectedly as he stared at the ground, shoulders slumped.

"I know it's little comfort now, but I promise your time _will_ come," his father added, patting him once more on the shoulder before heading over to his horse.

A few moments later, the horn sounded, sending the dogs into a frenzy as they rushed across the field, the riders not far behind.

Robert could not bear to watch, so he quickly turned to head inside. The blowing of the horn stopped him in his tracks. From the direction of the sound he could tell they were headed toward the stream – the stream he had been eager to show his papa he could now jump. Anger and jealousy flooded him. _I should be with them_, he thought bitterly. It was then that an idea occurred to him. He might not be able to participate, but it might be almost as much fun to watch all the horses and riders jump the stream. He had time to make it if he cut through the woods.

Hesitating for the merest of seconds, Robert suddenly took off toward the woods, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

RCRCRCRCRCRCRCRCRCR

Huffing and puffing from his sprint through the woods, Robert finally caught sight of a break in the trees ahead. Unfortunately, he had not realized that the view from the edge of the woods provided a poor perspective of the stream. _From here all I'll see is the horses' rumps!_ He kicked savagely at a small rock, unable to contain his annoyance at this unexpected flaw in his plan.

Calming down slightly, he suddenly remembered the little foot bridge that crossed the stream. Standing on it he would have a great view of the horses as they jumped the stream. Sadly, though, it would afford him no cover – standing on it he'd be fully exposed to the riders. Having come this far though, Robert allowed his eagerness to outweigh his common sense. Suddenly hearing the horses and riders approaching, he ran toward the foot bridge.

When he reached the bridge, Robert kneeled down, trying to make himself as small as possible. No sooner had he done this, than the horses crested the hill and headed toward the stream. Robert was mesmerized by the thrilling sight of horses and riders jumping the stream, while others splashed through it with wild abandon.

In his excitement, Robert had failed to consider that one of the riders might attempt to cross the foot bridge rather than jump the stream. Too late, he registered the sound of horse hooves bearing down on him. As he turned to try and get out of the way, the horse reared, unceremoniously upending its rider into the stream with a scream and a splash.

To his horror, Robert realized that the rider was not just any rider, but Lady Agatha, and that her screams and protestations had caused the other riders to head back in their direction. Robert was frozen in place, his shock at this unexpected turn of events made it impossible for him to move. In a daze, he watched as some of the gentlemen helped Lady Agatha from the stream. Lady Agatha spent all her energy shouting at Robert.

Movement to his right caught his attention. Robert watched timidly out of the corner of his eye as his father dismounted and walked slowly toward him. He had never noticed before just quite how tall his papa was.

"Are you alright, boy?"

Numb with shock and fear, all Robert could do was slowly nod his head, not daring to look up.

"Good."

His father's tone made Robert doubt that it was such a "good" thing.

Turning to the other riders, his father assigned men to help Lady Agatha and directed everyone to head back to the house; the hunt was officially over.

Robert and his father stayed where they were as everyone else rode away. Robert could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. Anxiously, he waited for the coming reproof. He was, therefore, confused when none was forth coming.

"As you were able to make it out here on your own two feet, I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding your way back. I shall be waiting in the library," his father said ominously. With that, he turned and mounted his horse. "And Robert…don't keep me waiting."

Robert could do nothing but stare as his father galloped away on his horse. Not wishing to dig himself in any deeper, Robert did not hesitate, but dashed toward the woods at a breakneck pace.

RCRCRCRCRCRCRCRCRCR

The house was ominously quiet as Robert entered. As he stared at the dreaded library door, he absent mindedly scrubbed at his cheeks and brushed dirt off his pants; in his haste to get back to the house he had fallen several times. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he quietly pushed open the door.

Upon entering the library, Robert came to a sudden halt. He was startled to find his father staring directly at him, hands clasped behind his back. He had been expecting to find him gazing thoughtfully out the window as he so often was when Robert was sent to the library for a scolding. This change in their normal disciplinary sessions disconcerted him.

The clock ticked away the seconds as father and son looked at one another. Robert was unable to maintain his father's gaze for very long, eventually he looked down at his shoes. Still the silence persisted. When Robert could stand it no longer, he took a deep breath and hurriedly began his apologies before he lost his nerve. "I'm so terribly sorry, Papa. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never should have left the house. I should have listened to you. I didn't mean to ruin the hunt or for Lady Agatha to fall into the stream. I only wanted to be a part, to see some of the action. I never thought…"

"No, you did not think," his father interrupted him, causing Robert to glance up. "You deliberately disobeyed my instructions without considering the consequences of your actions. You did not _think_ about the fact that you could possibly have endangered one of the riders or even yourself. You let what you wanted to do cloud your judgment and in the process got someone injured – Lady Agatha has a sprained wrist."

"I am very, very sorry, truly Papa," Robert replied softly. He was just starting to understand the full weight of what he'd done, of what might have happened.

"I know you are sorry, and in the grand scheme of life this may eventually be looked upon as a childish folly, but I have to make sure you understand that thought must come before action, and that all actions have consequences." As he finished his statement, he withdrew his hands from behind his back. Robert's eyes widened in panic at the belt his father was holding. Only one thought flashed through Robert's mind – _Never again forget about the consequences!_

* * *

"If I remember correctly it was only a few strokes, but they seemed to last for an awfully long time." Robert paused, remembering. "I'm not sure if it was the pain or the embarrassment that was harder to endure. For afterwards, Papa had me apologize to Lady Agatha and every other person who'd been involved in the hunt – even the kitchen maids who helped make the luncheon," he finished with a chuckle.

Cora smiled up at him sweetly as she absent mindedly played with the hairs on the nape of his neck. "Thank you for sharing your story with me. I'm so glad that you did not learn your lesson."

Robert stared at her in shock. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Well," she began thoughtfully, "if you had learned your lesson, you might have allowed certain consequences, such as a life spent with a woman you did not love, to convince you not to marry her for her money. So, yes, I am very glad and thankful that you did not learn your lesson," she finished quietly as she leaned up to kiss him.

As the kiss continued, Robert slowly rolled them over. When he pulled back, he stared into her vibrant blue eyes – seeing the love he felt for her reflected back at him.

"You, my darling, have been the greatest consequence of my life," he whispered with reverence.

Cora's eyes misted over as she once again kissed her husband. Both of them were swept away by the passion that their sentiments had sparked. As Cora was delighting in the soft kisses Robert was trailing along her jaw, she was suddenly startled when he murmured softly into her ear, "Don't think this is going to make me forget about _your_ story."

Cora giggled softly as Robert leaned over to blow out the candle, both of them eager to reap the consequences of their love.


End file.
